Need More Knitting Time?

Get a stapedectomy. This ingenious operation will leave you flat on your back, with all the normal dexterity in your upper limbs, alert enough to follow an intermediate-level knitting pattern, and has the added bonus of preventing further ossification of the bones in your ear, thereby improving your hearing! The strong of stomach can view step-by-step illustrations here.

Oh--did I mention that you won't be able to move without experiencing extreme dizziness for a solid five days, that you won't be able to hear out of the ear in question for the same amount of time, and that you will consume more Advil in those five days than you did in the past five years? Minor details.

Yes, this is how I have spent my post-Christmas break. I have torn through about four solid books and completed one and a half sides of this:


And still managed to fit in time to be a bit bored.

Every project I embark on has a Story. Empirical evidence gathered from other blogs suggests that this holds true for many knitters. Except Brooklyn Tweed, who seems to just bang out masterpieces, without patterns and without batting an eye, at the speed of light. But I digress. I fell in love with the pattern--Pleated Skirt by Blue Sky Alpaca--first, after seeing an ad in Interweave Knits. It's clean, classic, and knit in one color. I wanted the pattern, I needed the pattern, I had to have the pattern for that skirt. My mania was such that I committed my first act of online shopping to procure it.

Yes, the pattern was simple. The sizing was a bit wonky--cast on the same number of stitches for Extra Small, Small, and Medium, and vary needle size to vary the gauge and therefore the fit. And another factor: there were two lengths. But it was still Quite Simple, and I was still going to knit it.

In my local yarn store, while getting advice on yarn amounts for Velma (this all went down last spring), I showed the pattern to an Experienced Knitter. I had discovered that Blue Sky Alpaca yarn is not sold anywhere nearby, and to put it mildly, I have had some unpleasant experiences with yarn substitutions. This Experienced Knitter was only too happy to offer me advice on yarn substitution, but she took exception to the pattern. First was the way different sizes were achieved, second was the fact that it was a pleated skirt. Some negative attributes were ascribed to alpaca yarn along the way. She seemed to have quite a vendetta against pleats (perhaps a project had once gone awry for her), and did all she could to dissuade me from knitting this pattern without actually crying out "Don't knit this abhorrent object!"

A note: Empowerment and diligence are both good qualities. In moderation. In larger qualities, they are expressed by negatively-shaded adjectives such as headstrong, mule-stubborn, obstinate, refractory, etc. And then there are those horribly self-righteous phrases, "pride comes before a fall", and "I told you so." I mention these things to explain why, after a knitter with honorable intentions, and whose years of experience far outweigh my own, offered me myriad reasons why knitting this skirt was without a doubt a bad idea, I made up my mind that I was going to knit this pattern, and I was going to make it WORK.

I bring this up to give you all ample time to get your popcorn. Nine times out of ten, this plot line ends with a project crashing and burning, and I'm sure the aforementioned Experienced Knitter would like to be on hand for the climax.

I found the yarn called for in the pattern at the same store I got the Calmer (ooh--that could be a sign!), and last Friday, I began. Here's where I currently stand:


Add that with the side photographed beneath the pattern, and you get three quarters of a skirt. However, this is where we reach the first plot wrinkle. The first side is knitted in one length. The second, incomplete side is knitted in another. Pause to ponder the wisdom of choosing your desired final dimensions before embarking on a project.

So the suspense builds. I have completed half a side in the correct measurements without a hitch, I have established that I will have plenty of yarn to finish the project. But--I have to rip side 1 back to the first 2 inches to adjust the length. Will I complete it successfully? What's more, will I complete it with my sanity, or will the curtain fall on a gibbering mess entangled in yards of frazzled, twice-ripped alpaca?

We will return to our presentation after a knit break.

So Close!

And this weekend I'll be far away. Santa Monica, to be exact. I *love* traveling to California. Firstly, it's usually a roadtrip, which gives me hours of scenery watching, knitting--whatever. Secondly, our California trips are usually undertaken at transistional points in the year. At semester's end, they're a celebration of freedom. At semester's start, they're one last hurrah in the Land of Excess before reality hits like a full cement mixer. No matter that this is not officially semester's end--I still have one final after we get back on Monday. But I'll have a nice long ride in which to study verbos y cultura y vocabulario, and...

FINISH THE VELMA SWEATER!

Previously known as the Fitted Ribbed Turtleneck. But it was knitted for Velma in the live-action Scooby Doo movie, so it really is the Velma sweater. I'm quite excited: that thing has been collecting dust behind my bed for ages, and now I will actually have it off my FO list. There is no doubt about it being finished. We are going to see the Nutcracker one night, and I have nothing else to wear there. If I do not finish it, I do not go, but because I must go, I must finish the sweater. That may not pass for standard logic, but it makes perfect sense to me.

The finish-or-freeze tactic is how I finished my last sweater, too. That was a gray argyle cardigan, my own pattern, that I called the Black Arrow Cardigan. I was very proud of myself: I did all the finishing on a bus, and was didn't have to redo any of it after I got home.

*Sigh* Days like today make me wish I could knit at work. It's gray and wet outside, warm and quiet inside. No people, no fiddly work. The desks are perfect, too: super-high, more counters, really, so I could sit with my knitting hidden discreetly in my lap as I worked and drop it to the side if someone came up with a question. But no. But what would people think if they saw you knitting? That was how I was told "get your needles in your locker." I really, really wanted to ask what people would think if they saw me with my head on the countertop, drooling slightly as I dozed. But I refrained. And so W is for Wendolene who died of ennui

POW!

Isn't this the most amazing thing ever?

Not my knitting--obliterated by blocking are nearly a dozen fudges. I mean the fact that this shawl is off the needles and blocked.

I am thrilled to death. Right now, I expected to be glancing balefully at my corner piled high with UFOS and shuffling along on the Fiery Bolero. But the yarn gods are benevolent. The Malabrigo came in early, and in my elation, I whipped out the last few rows, the edgy bit, and bound off in three days. Staying up until midnight watching Arcade Fire on Austin City Limits helped. Arcade Fire is one of those bands that you can't really appreciate fully until you have seen them perform, and they really kicked it out that night. I was hugely impressed.

But anyways. As part of the FO ritual, here are the specs:
Pattern: Icarus Shawl from the Interweave Knits Summer 2006 issue
Yarn: THREE skeins Malabrigo Laceweight in Bergamota. I do not recommend using anything dark. This yarn is a little slippery, and most of my fudges were the result of losing a yarnover and not discovering the fact until 2 rows after it happened.
Needles: There's always lots of discussion on what sort of needles to use, metal vs. bamboo, ultra-pointy tips or not. I did ok with plain bamboo Addis. The tips were not inordinately pointy, but they worked for me. I do not recommend using metal needles with this particular yarn, as per my above note on fudges, but a longer wire would be good. After the first few repeats of Chart 1, the whole thing started bunching up on the needle and it was impossible to see how my gauge was holding up.
Blocking: threading string through the eyelets while wet, tugging the ends tight, and setting it aside to dry works just fine.

My favorite part of this pattern is that it impresses the heck out of people. My Linguistics classmates had been monitoring my in-class progress, and asked me to bring "the red thing" in when I was done with it. I did (shamelessly), and they oohed and aahed in amazement. I take no credit in such success. The pattern is elegant and elegantly written. If you 1. can read a chart, 2. buy good yarn, and 3. have boatloads of patience/are a glutton for punishment, you can make this.
Of course, there's no need to tell everyone else that.

After I got it off the needles, I agonized over the pronounced bimp at the base:


But blocking evened that out.

Here's a detail before blocking:


And one from after:


And a closeup:

(This last picture best approximates the actual color of the yarn.)

Yes, I am totally enamored. But I was so totally in a rut, and after that bit of instant gratification from the Acorn hat, this was just the boost I needed to get me going on the Fiery Bolero.

AND I just got off on Thanksgiving break. The best way to see the effect this had on my mood would be to look at what I was playing on iTunes: yesterday I had Yellow, Despair in the Departure Lounge, and Sailed On in the lineup. Today? The Colour the Colour the Colour with All for You, Sofia and Seven Nation Army thrown in for good measure. This is the teaser--that little taste of freedom (and pie) to keep us going.

The end of the semester IS incredibly close. Beginning Tuesday, we hit the short, steep slide to finals. After that: winter break. Not quite the Holy Grail that is summer break, but at 65 degrees, I'll take it. Repeat: 20 days, I can make it another 20 days. Just 3 more weeks, and I get my brain back.

Happy knitting with cranberry sauce.